Oh and when you are docked and the long trip is through
There’s pubs and there’s clubs and there’s lassies there too
Where the girls are all pretty and the beer is all free
And there’s bottles of rum growin off every tree
“So wrap me up in my oilskins and jumper. No more on the docks I’ll be seen. Just tell me old shipmates, I’m taken a trip mate. And I’ll see ya some day in Fiddler’s Green”.